skin on fire
by lollercakes
Summary: Brief glimpses into little touches.


It was just a touch. A ghost of a feeling. His hand near her collar, knuckles against her neck, fingers wrapped up in the ribbon of her hair.

It was nothing.

It was everything.

Her breath exhaled tightly, eyes widening as she looked up and over at him. He looked almost as surprised as her, his lips ajar as his arm withdrew from where it invaded her space. She watched almost without breathing as he twisted the skin on his wrist, expanding his hand and then tucking it safely away in his pocket.

_I wish _\- she stopped that thought and closed her eyes, shaking her head to rid her mind of any place where that thought would take her.

"Anne!" Diana calls from the back of the schoolhouse, her lively voice breaking through the spell that has fogged her mind. "You will never believe the morning I've had!"

"I could say the same thing," Gilbert murmurs at her side, his gaze falling on her once more as Diana pulls Anne towards her excitedly. For a moment, for the briefest of seconds, Anne wonders what he means.

But then her attention is drawn to her dearest friend and she forces the memory of his hand next to her heart into the depths of her mind, hidden away with the secrets and fantasies that she will never tell a soul.

* * *

Panic strikes as the wooden boat sinks below her and the water comes lapping at her sides, swallowing her up as she calls for help. On shore her friends sprint away, screaming into the fields for someone, _anyone_, to help them.

_It isn't so bad, _she thinks to herself, the warm liquid growing heavier as she tries not to let the terror consume her. _At least it's a summer's day. At least there's that_.

When the water pulls her under, her arms lashing about uselessly, she almost gives up. Almost lets fate take her away from this world and give her back to the soil. But her body refuses and stays a float just long enough for hands to grasp at her shoulders, a boat pulling alongside her and saving her from the depths.

The boy in the boat balances his oars before crashing to his knees above her, his hands fluttering over her skin as fear colours his features. Anne watches in a daze as the halo of sunlight flickers through his mess of hair, her chest heaving and choking on swallowed water.

"Are you alright?" He gasps, his arms forcing her to sit up and lean forward, bodies close in the afternoon sun.

"I didn't expect the boat to sink," she admits weakly, glancing up at her saviour. She nearly jumps from the safety of the shell once more, embarrassment filling her cheeks as she observes Gilbert staring at her with wide shocked eyes.

"I mean - of course you didn't. But are you okay Anne? Really?" He chews his lip as concern lights across his brow, something foreign and haunting in his gaze.

"I believe so. Just a bit of a drowned rat." Her laugh is hollow and forced, her attempt at lightening the mood falling flat. She needed out of this situation, immediately. "Can you please take me to shore?"

Gilbert nods before picking up his oars, steering the boat with ease back towards the dock and tying it off as she scrambles out of it, barely slowing enough to allow him to catch up and settle his coat over her shoulders.

"I'm fine," she counters with a shrug, handing the jacket back to him. He frowns and places it once more on her small frame, his hand catching hers as she tries to flee.

"You nearly died," he says quietly, worry in his eyes as he looks her over once more.

"But I didn't. In fact - "

"You had it all perfectly under control?" He interrupts with a scoff, his hand dropping from where it hovers near her chin. She twists away and looks down, unwilling, unable, to look at his thinly veiled fear.

"Anne! Oh goodness Anne!" Ruby comes barrelling towards them, tears streaming down her face as she crashes into her friend's soaked frame. "I thought you'd died!" She sobs uncontrollably, pulling away only to wrap Gilbert up in a hug of her own. "And you saved her! Oh dear Gilbert - thank you!"

In the moment that Ruby distracts him Anne slips the jacket once more from her back and takes off at a brisk pace, stalking away from the vulnerability that she so desperately wanted to avoid. That, and the way her shoulders tingle after the warmth of his jacket begins to wear off.

* * *

"Have you seen Anne?" Gilbert's low voice drifts out towards her, seeking her out in the dark of the gardens where she's tucked herself into the bushes and away from sight. She'd been out here for what seemed like hours, avoiding the party after a disastrous argument in hushed tones that she'd had with that very voice.

He thought he loved her.

She thought he was being ridiculous.

"I think she went out to the gardens," someone responds and Anne nearly growls, frustrated that she'd been spotted, or worse, that a person would give away her hideout.

The quick clip of shoes echoes off the stone as Gilbert draws nearer, Anne's body pressing further into the leaves as she tries to disappear. She wishes she were anywhere but here. That she could be home in Avonlea, safe in her old bedroom and no longer at this party where strangers looked at her with judgement and old friends professed their unfounded feelings.

"There you are," Gilbert groans, nearly walking past her in his haste to find her. The lines of his face are sharp, sharper than they used to be, and she wonders then if his time away at school has hardened him.

_No, he's still Gil_.

"Here I am," she counters softly, wrapping her arms tightly across her chest. "Enjoying the rest of the party?"

Gilbert sighs and half-turns on his heel, looking out into the dusky garden and it's late blooms. "I would be enjoying it more if I was spending the time with you. But you've been gone for half the night - avoiding me I presume - and so it's been rather unpleasant, if I'm being honest."

He sounds tired. Like he's worn out. At his wits end.

"Perhaps we should just leave then, since neither of us are enjoying ourselves." She lets it hang between them, the rest of it unspoken.

"Is that really what you want? Or would you rather _I_ just leave so that you can go on enjoying your time with your friends?"

"_You_ are my friend, Gil," she breathes in reply, like his words are wounding her. Anne can't remember when their fighting became like barbs of wire, tearing at her.

"Then why have you avoided me, as though I'm the dirt beneath your shoe?" His voice is strained, the tone low but the pain evident in every word that slips from his lips. She hates it. Hates that she's the one causing it.

"I don't view you that way. I just - " He holds up his hand to interrupt her, his face twisted up in frustration. There's a silence that stretches, envelopes and folds, and eventually he steps closer until the knot of his tie is in line with her eyes.

"Can we - can you pretend that this never happened? Can we go back to how it was?" She looks up at him then, eyes wide and mouth open. _Could she go back? Could she pretend like his admission was nothing but a figment of the imagination?_ Looking at him now, the way the shadows play over his features, she could almost picture him as someone else entirely.

"Can you, Gil?" She whispers in return and the steeling of his expression is like a bucket of cold water, dousing the heat that had been coiling in her chest since he pressed his thigh to hers in the carriage on the way over.

* * *

"Anne, you can't go over to the Blythe's at this hour!" Rachel Lynde scolds, watching from her place in front of the fire as Anne pulls a shawl around her shoulders. Her cheeks flame at the command, a stubborn stone settling in her gut.

"If _your_ best friend was dying would you not run to their bedside, Mrs Lynde? Would you not fight to be with them to show them how much you cared?" She snaps.

Rachel recoils, glancing towards Marilla for support. "Tell her she can't go, Marilla. It's imprudent!"

"I could no more tell her not to go than I can stop the sun from rising in the morning Rachel and you know it. Anne, ensure you give my regards to the Blythes and be back before midnight," Marilla adds, eyeing the girl evenly. She can see the way the girl's shoulders hold a tension that she can do nothing to abate, her fears almost palpable in the small parlour.

"I will. Please don't wait up for me," Anne requests and disappears out into the yard.

The Blythe household is dimly lit as she comes up the path, haunting memories of walking this route alongside her friend keeping her company as she raps against the heavy wood. It takes a drawn out moment before the door is opened and she's ushered inside, a frazzled John Blythe pulling her into a tight hug that leaves her breathless.

"Go on up, my girl," he instructs, motioning to the small staircase as he runs his hands through his hair.

Gilbert's paleness nearly causes her to stumble from the room, her heart beginning to race as she thinks for a moment, just the meerest of a second, that perhaps he's already gone. But then his chest rises and it seems like the world has righted itself, her feet carrying her to his bedside and onto her knees.

"Oh Gil," she whispers, voice raw with unshed tears. She clasps his hand in hers, his clammy skin hot with fever. "I'm sorry I stayed away. I'm sorry I pushed you away."

His eyes flutter and Anne leans forward, desperate to hear his voice as his lips move silently. When after a moment still no sound escapes she sighs and rests her head on his chest, her hair spilling across his sheets and her cheek heating from the contact. She stays there for as long as she can, listening to the hastened beat of his heart until Mrs Blythe enters the room with a sad smile.

"I've brought some cool cloths to try to lower his fever. Perhaps you best get on home now, Anne," Mrs Blythe suggests, settling the basin on the bedside table.

Reluctantly, Anne nods and wipes her face of the tears she'd allowed to escape. "Yes ma'am. May I come visit again tomorrow?"

"He's quieted down with you here so I'd say another visit from you would do him well."

With a final pause at his side, Anne lifts her hand to his brow and lets her fingers linger, smoothing the damp curls back and smiling softly down at him. "I'll come back tomorrow Gil. Don't go anywhere I can't follow."

Outside in the fields she lets loose the heavy tears she had forced herself to swallow, her whole body on fire as though she'd caught his fever herself. Anxious thoughts prodded her wounded mind and followed her back to Green Gables, her heart aching with the possibility of losing him.

* * *

"And therein lay the problem, Gilbert," Anne quips angrily, her arms crossed over her chest as the boy - now a man - reaches for her.

"You're being quite dramatic again - " Her look causes him to close his mouth, his lips turning up with a smile. " - But I love that about you. Which is why I won't engage any further in this argument."

"Coward," she hisses, stalking away from him. With a grumble and quick steps he comes up behind her, grasping her about the waist and turning her to face him.

"I'm no coward, Anne. I just know that both of us are hot under the collar because I've still got another semester to finish before I can come back here to marry you and finish what we started this morning!" His words cause her to still, the flush rising up her neck as she feels the tension in his body, the way he presses into her in a way that had made her weak only moments ago.

The kiss catches her unaware and her knees nearly collapse from it, her hands resting on his shoulders as she tries to steady herself. Before long he's pulling away as breathless as she, his hands painfully close to brushing against where her body runs too hot.

"There are so many thoughts that I cannot share with you right now for fear of scaring you off or because I know that it will open a place we cannot yet go. I'm not keeping secrets from you, nor am I withdrawing from you, love. I'm simply trying to keep a rein on myself so that we don't make any mistakes. I won't do that to you," he adds, his lips at her brow and the tip of his nose grazing along her temple.

"But if we can't talk about it now, is it not a sign of the future? What becomes of a man and wife who can't share everything?" She whispers, closing her eyes as his fingers tighten their hold on her blouse.

"Must you know every thought, however scandalous, that passes through my head?" He asks lowly. She can hear the want in his voice, heavy like her own need.

"Would you not want to hear my own?"

Her reply sends a shudder through him, her own body singing at the idea. She longed to lay in the tall grass of summer with him next to her, their hands floating across exposed skin as they spun tales that would make even the most bold of characters flush under the July sun. It was a dream she held close, one she planned to action one day when there were no longer any barriers standing between them.

But that day was not today and they were keenly aware of it, hovering on the edge as two souls are wont to do.

* * *

His fingertips slip up the side of her exposed leg, trailing a path of heat up towards her hip as he moves to rest his chin on her shoulder. "Are you coming back to bed?"

Her gaze stays focused on the sea, a small smile playing at her features as his hands slide under the thin robe she wears. With his lips nibbling at her ear and his length pressing into her side she relents, turning to face him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"How are you not exhausted yet, my love?" She asks as he carries her back to the wide mattress, dumping her on the sheets with a knowing smile.

"Oh, I am. But I'm not yet sated. One only gets one first day with his new wife and I intend to love her for all of it, if she'll allow," he adds quietly, staring down at her exposed form. She doesn't bother to cover up, finally at peace with the way one look, one touch from this man sets her alight.

"I shall allow it though on one condition this time," she pauses, mischievously crooking her finger and luring him towards her. His knees bracket her hips and she grins, pulling his lips down to hers. When she's thoroughly distracted him she shifts and rolls them until he's on his back, his eyes wide as she straddles him. "Let me watch you fall apart this time. Before the light is too low to see it from up here."

He swallows noticeably, his hands reaching and pushing her robe from her shoulders as he leans up to run kisses along her collar. "Anything, Anne. Anything you ask of me is yours."

With love in her eyes and a flush running along her pale skin she slowly brings him to the precipice, crumbling as he sighs and moans into her skin. Somewhere between reality and disbelief she feels as if her skin is on fire, her want consuming her as his touch, gentle and sweet, turns to a pressing certainty.

Together they fall apart as the sinking sun throws shadows over the room, the last light of day lingering on his hazel eyes and dark curls. She watches as his stubbled jaw softens with his release, his eyes never straying from hers in all the moments that she tries to capture in her mind's eye.

Her body shifts over him, stretching out against his chest as slowly, quietly, she settles a piece of her soul finally next to his.


End file.
